


The One With the Fetish

by wesleysgirl



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time John sees Rodney with his nipples pierced, he gets a hard on so fast he thinks he's going to come in his pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With the Fetish

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Wolfshark for the help and encouragement!

The first time John sees Rodney with his nipples pierced, he gets a hard on so fast he thinks he's going to come in his pants.

The whole thing leading up to that is a long and kind of embarrassing story that starts with the world's briefest visit to M6K-969 and ends with John in the infirmary with a sprained ankle and the rest of his team off to celebrate the harvest with the people they're hoping to establish a trade relationship with. Keller does a few tests, pronounces John's ankle unbroken, gives him a hefty dose of pain medication, and leaves him to sleep it off. Which is what he's doing a couple of hours later when Rodney comes storming into the infirmary, mouth running a mile a minute.

"I want them _out_!"

"Rodney, you promised the Tyrhan people that you would not remove them until after we return to their village on the next full moon." Teyla's voice is gentle.

"Oh, yes, easy for you to say, they didn't touch _you_ ," Rodney snaps.

All John can see is Rodney's broad back. His shirt is hitched up and it looks like Keller is examining his chest. "They're very clean," she says.

"I am never, _never_ leaving the city again," Rodney says. "Ow! Jesus, take it easy, will you? They're _sensitive_!"

"I'm not surprised," Keller says. "You know, whether you want to keep them in or not, I'd really recommend leaving them in until the piercings have healed. That way there's less risk of infection."

"Infection?" Rodney's voice breaks on the second syllable.

"But you don't have to worry about that," Keller tells him as he jerks his shirt back down to his waist. "Just keep them clean, and we can always start you on a broad-spectrum antibiotic if we need to."

"It is only a month, Rodney," Teyla says gently. "Surely, for the good of Atlantis, you can -- "

"I _know_ ," Rodney hisses. "I will, okay? But that doesn't mean I have to like it." And he stalks back out of the infirmary.

"What the hell was that all about?" John asks when Teyla looks over at him. "Piercings?"

"It is... a long story," Teyla says. "I am sure that Rodney will share it with you when he is ready. How are you feeling, Colonel?" She's changing the subject on purpose, John's sure of it.

"Well, you know. Kind of stoned." John gives her a dopey smile to make her think he's been properly distracted, but... seriously. _Piercings_? Is he really just supposed to let that go?

"Will Doctor Keller keep you here in the infirmary for long?" Teyla asks.

"Nah. She said she'd issue me some crutches as soon as she could trust me on them. Which'll probably be any time now." John wonders where Rodney's gone off to. The lab? He's more likely to end up there than anywhere else if he's annoyed; it makes him feel better when he can order other people around. "Hey, doc! Can I get out of here?"

Keller looks up from the notation she's making on what's probably Rodney's chart and nods. "As long as you promise me you'll take it easy. I want you off that ankle for at least three days."

"You mean no running with Ronon?" John asks innocently.

She doesn't take the bait. "Nope. And no _walking_. Crutches one hundred percent of the time, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," John says, swinging his wrapped foot carefully down off the bed and taking the crutches one of the nurses hands to him. 

"I am on my way to my quarters," Teyla says. "Would you like me to accompany you to yours?"

John thinks fast, which is harder than usual with all the happy drugs floating around in his system. "Actually, I think I'll swing by the mess hall and get something to eat. Probably better not to go to bed on an empty stomach."

"I'm sure you are right," Teyla says, and they part ways in the hall.

By the time John gets to Rodney's lab, he's got the hang of crutches again. It's not hard, even half-stoned the way he is, but when the door to Rodney's lab opens and Rodney looks up, and John sees him, sees the way his shirt is stretched tight across his wide chest and the way his nipples are poking out, the little rings that go through them outlined under the fabric, and all the blood rushes to John's cock so fast that he loses his balance, wobbles, and falls down with a startled squawk.

"Sheppard?" Rodney sounds startled, too, and immediately comes over and helps him untangle his right leg from one of the crutches. "Please tell me you didn't steal these and sneak out of the infirmary when Dr. Keller wasn't looking."

"No," John says. God, he has a huge erection and he can't tear his eyes away from the nipple rings that are clearly visible under Rodney's shirt. "She said I could go. I just, um..." He has no idea what to say, and the feel of Rodney's hands on him as Rodney helps him to his feet is electric. "I wanted to see how things went. On the planet."

"I'd think you'd be a little more concerned about yourself," Rodney says, stepping back. John still can't take his eyes off Rodney's new nipple rings, even as he's trying to get the crutches re-situated. Rodney makes a huffed sound and crosses his arms over his chest. "I take it you heard."

"Not all of it," John says. He finally drags his eyes up to Rodney's face, which is flushed. "Teyla wouldn't tell me."

"Yes, well, she probably liked the idea of me having to tell you myself," Rodney says, which isn't fair but is the kind of thing Rodney thinks to distract himself from what he doesn't want to be thinking about. "The Tyrhan people -- Tyrhanians, whatever -- would only agree to consider trading with us if we went through with this barbaric ceremony."

"We?" John asks.

"The men," Rodney amends. "Me and Ronon. Women are exempt, something about the piercing possibly causing damage that would prevent them from being able to breastfeed." He waves a hand to indicate how insignificant this is, then remembers he's trying to cover his nipples and hastily tucks it back into his armpit. "And now I have to leave them like this for a month. With my luck, I'll get gangrene."

"Gangrene of the nipples?" John says, grinning.

"Yes, yes, laugh it up," Rodney snaps. "Remember that if you hadn't had the good fortune to step in that hole and twist your ankle, you'd be in the same position right now."

John nods. "Did it hurt?" 

"They shoved a huge _needle_ through some of my most sensitive flesh!" Rodney says, and John's dick gives a heavy throb. Thank God Rodney doesn't seem to notice. "Of course it hurt! Look, can we not talk about this, please?"

"Sure," John says. "Sure. Um... you want to get something to eat?"

Rodney shakes his head. "Are you kidding? They fed us so much at that harvest feast thing I thought my stomach was going to explode. Not that it wasn't the least they could do, considering."

"Okay. Um..." God, he's staring again, and his dick gives another determined throb that makes him swing around so Rodney can't see. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Try not to step in any holes," Rodney says.

"Yeah," John says. "Try not to get any more piercings."

* * *

John can't sleep. He can't get Rodney's pierced nipples out of his head, which he tells himself is crazy. It's not like they're all that different than before, right? Before, Rodney's nipples were just nipples. Okay, maybe a little bit more interesting than the average nipples, what with the way they're always poking out whenever there's the slightest dip in temperature. Or when Rodney wears that blue shirt. John misses that blue shirt. He used to love it when Rodney would...

Okay, that's not the train of thought he was aiming for. He's supposed to be thinking about the piercings. Wait, no, he's supposed to be thinking about something else. Anything else, really, would do about now, only his cock is hard as a rock for the fifth time tonight and he's pretty sure it's not going to go down on its own this time.

With a sigh, John rolls onto his back and shoves the blanket down to mid-thigh, then wraps his hand around his erection. He tries to think about something other than Rodney as he jerks off, but a dozen strokes in he decides it's hopeless and lets his mind wander wherever it wants to, which is directly to Rodney's nipples and those little rings that go through them. He wonders what color the rings are. Gold? Silver? He doesn't care. He imagines closing his mouth around one of them, Rodney's nipple warm and the ring cool, clicking against his teeth, and he comes with a strangled sound, striping his belly and chest.

After that, he can sleep.

* * *

He bumps into Rodney on his way into the mess hall at lunchtime the next day. Rodney's on his way out, a full tray in his hands. He's wearing his jacket and John knows immediately that it's because he's trying to hide his new jewelry.

"Hey," John says, lifting his fingers. Normally he'd have raised both hands to slow Rodney down, but the crutches are cramping his style. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Oh, right, like you don't know," Rodney snaps, then lowers his voice and hisses, "Thank you _very_ much for spreading it all over the city! I know I'm just a running joke to you, but I didn't realize you were such an asshole."

"What?" John says. He feels like someone hit him. "Wait, what?"

Rodney glares at him and steps around him, starting off down the hallway.

Luckily, John has good reflexes, and he manages to follow. "Rodney," he says, then, " _McKay_!"

Whirling around, still glaring, Rodney says, "What, knowing that you told everyone my personal, _private_ business isn't enough? Now you want to gloat, too?"

"Rodney, I didn't tell anyone anything," John tells him urgently, swinging a few steps closer. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

Rodney's face changes, going from angry to confused and hurt. "I'm talking about my --" He jerks one side of his jacket open, revealing the outline of a nipple ring underneath his shirt. 

John moves closer still. "Did it ever occur to you that your little problem is incredibly obvious to anyone who sees you?"

"That's not the point," Rodney says. "You haven't seen the looks people are giving me."

Maybe not, but he can imagine. He's pretty sure he's giving Rodney one of them right now. "You do remember that _Ronon_ got his nipples pierced, too?" he asks.

" _Yes_ , I haven't forgotten," Rodney says impatiently.

"Well, he's been going around showing them to anyone who'll look," John says, and Rodney's shoulders slump. All of a sudden, he just looks tired and sad.

"Oh," he says. "Oh, well. I suppose that would explain it, yes." He lifts his eyes and meets John's for a split second before looking away again. "Sorry. For the... sorry." 

"You're really freaked out about this," John says.

"Yes, thank you for that startling and insightful observation. I have work to do." Rodney turns and starts off again, and this time John lets him go.

* * *

It's another four days before John's off his crutches. By then, his ankle seems mostly okay; it's still a little tender, but he doesn't start limping until the end of the day. He figures in another week he'll be fit for duty again, and Keller confirms it when he stops by to let her take a look at it.

"Just take it _easy_ ," she tells him. "No sparring with Ronon. And no running!"

John's _bored_. He tries everything he can think of to keep busy, but he's already run through the whole list already and Rodney's apparently avoiding him. He walks carefully to the lab and looks in, but to his surprise Rodney's not there. "Hey, Radek," he says. "Have you seen McKay?"

Radek shakes his head. "No. Been berated by him, yes, of course, because he is conscious, but he seems to be avoiding the lab."

"Since when?"

"Since he came back from M6K-969," Radek says. 

"Huh."

John goes to Rodney's quarters.

"Busy!" Rodney says through the closed door.

"Hey, it's me," John says. "Can I come in?"

There's a brief silence, then Rodney says, "Yes, all right, fine. Come in."

John does. 

Rodney is sitting on the edge of his bed with a laptop balanced on his knees; he rests his wrists on the corners and looks at John impatiently, expectantly, like he's waiting to hear about some emergency that requires his attention. John's almost sorry to disappoint him. 

His eyes go immediately to Rodney's nipples. Under the thin t-shirt Rodney is wearing, the rings are clearly visible. Moistening his lips, John looks away and says, "Radek says he hasn't seen you in a couple of days."

"Well, I've been busy."

"Busy hiding out in your quarters?" John's fingers itch to trace Rodney's nipple rings through his shirt. He shoves his hands into his pockets so Rodney can't see. Hell, _he's_ the one who's hiding. He should stop this, now, make a hasty excuse and an even faster retreat, but somehow he can't bring himself to.

"I'm busy working," Rodney says, but he lifts his eyes from the computer screen and meets John's uncertainly. "Look, please tell me that you haven't just come to gawk at the freak."

For a few seconds, John doesn't even know what to say to that. "What?" 

"Oh, come on, don't try to pretend you haven't thought it." Rodney sets the laptop down on the bed next to him and stands up. "Yes, okay, I'm hiding. I'm hiding from all the people staring and snickering behind their hands, because it's just -- it's all too _much_."

"You don't seriously think everyone's talking about your -- your new piercings, do you?" John can't manage to say 'nipple rings' out loud.

"Oh, sure, give them to a guy like Ronon, seven feet tall --"

"That's an exaggeration," John interrupts, but Rodney gives him a savage look and he holds up his hands in surrender. "Sorry."

"I'm just saying," Rodney goes on. "Someone like Ronon, he can get away with it. It's even an _asset_ , one more thing people can fantasize about. But put them on someone like me..." Rodney sounds and looks totally miserable.

John takes a step toward him. "I think they look good." Rodney frowns at him and he feels heat flush his cheeks. "I mean, um. You know. I think they'd look good, if I could... if I could look at them."

Rodney's eyes are locked on his, slow realization dawning on Rodney's face. "If you... if..." Clearly his throat, Rodney tries again. "Do -- do you want to look?"

His mouth so dry he can't speak, John nods. He watches with a sense of shocked disbelief as Rodney hesitates, then slowly pulls his t-shirt off, revealing broad shoulders, smooth skin, and pale pink nipples that are raised where the thin bronze-colored rings pierce them. He watches as his own hand reaches out, fingers trembling, then stops millimeters before touching Rodney. "Can I?" he asks, his voice hoarse. He's hard, suddenly and painfully, and just the pressure of his dick against his pants feels like it might be enough to make him go off.

"Okay," Rodney says, sounding as mesmerized as John feels. Then he adds, quickly, "Just -- just be gentle. They're pretty sensitive."

John nods again. He's so torn between wanting to touch and not wanting to hurt that his first attempt is barely a touch at all, just the faintest brush of one fingertip against the metal ring. Sheepish, he glances up at Rodney's face; Rodney licks his lips and swallows. It feels like encouragement. This time, when John traces the outside edge of the ring, he can feel how warm it is. It seems surprising, at first, until he realizes the metal has absorbed Rodney's body heat, a thought that makes his erection throb.

He touches it again, with more confidence, thumbing the underside of the ring so it tugs at Rodney's nipple, making it move. Rodney breathes out a sigh.

"This okay?" John asks, wanting to check.

"Mmhm," Rodney murmurs.

Lifting his other hand, John thumbs the second ring. The sound Rodney makes is more like a gasp, but not a pained one. John pushes both thumbs up underneath the rings, pads rubbing Rodney's pierced flesh. Rodney moans softly, and John glances at his face again, ghosting one hand down over Rodney's ribs to his hip.

"I've been going crazy," he admits, moving in closer. "Thinking about you like this."

"Oh?" Rodney's lower lip is so full and lush; John wants to feel it against his own.

"Thinking about you." He throws whatever shreds of caution remain to the winds and leans in, capturing Rodney's mouth with his own.

Rodney freezes for about five seconds, then makes a relieved sound against John's lips and kisses back. His mouth is generous when he kisses, like he's confident in his ability to do it well, and he really goes for it; he gets both hands on John's waist and pulls him closer, his kisses fierce and, weirdly, joyful.

John's dick is as into this as it's ever been into anything, and his fingers are in love with Rodney's left nipple. He couldn't have pried his mouth away from Rodney's if the room was on fire. All he wants to do is this, to kiss Rodney and touch him and walk him backward until they hit the bed and gravity takes over, which ends up being a lot more awkward than John had imagined.

"Ow!" Rodney complains. "That was my _stomach_ , you klutz. Not everyone has the protection of rock-hards abs, you know."

"I don't have --" John starts.

"And when did your elbows get so _pointy_?" Rodney seems ready to continue all day; John shifts to one side and palms Rodney's dick through his slacks, and that seems to derail Rodney's train pretty nicely. His lips part, and his eyes go a little hazy and unfocused, and John thinks he could do this forever. "Oh," Rodney says. "Oh, that's..."

"Nice?" John suggests.

"Very. Very nice. Could you -- do you think, without the pants?"

"Sure." John undoes the front of Rodney's slacks and slides a hand down inside, feels the warmth and heft of Rodney and kisses him while jacking him nice and slow. He bites gently on Rodney's lower lip, then murmurs, "How's that?"

Rodney's hips are lifting with each stroke, and the head of his cock is damp. "Good," he says. "Good, yes, only -- faster, maybe? And a little --" He groans and his cock jolts in John's hand.

John slips his hand lower to the base of Rodney's dick and squeezes -- not hard, just enough to take things down a notch. Rodney groans again, this time in disappointment, but hitches himself up onto his elbows and gives John a look.

"Sheppard," he says. "I should have known you were a tease."

"Yeah?" John gets up onto his knees, then straddles Rodney's thighs. "Shoulda known you'd like being teased." He wraps his left hand around Rodney's dick again -- it's awkward, but sometimes awkward can feel even better -- and touches Rodney's nipples with the other. Light touches, coaxing the sensitive flesh to draw in on itself, tightening around the rings that pierce it. Rodney's eyes are dark, and John's own hips rock forward, pressing his erection against the seam of Rodney's pants and his own forearm. "You like this, don't you."

Rodney nods. His breath is quick and harsh now, just like John's, and the head of his cock is shiny each time it slicks its way out of John's fist. "God. I'm -- really close."

"Good," John says, jerking Rodney almost roughly. "Want you to. Want to see you. C'mon, McKay, give it up for me."

And Rodney does; he gives one sudden, sharp gasp and freezes, cock throbbing as he shoots all over John's fingers and his own stomach. He trembles and sucks in air when it's over, relaxing beneath John.

Impatient now, John lets go of Rodney's cock and tugs at the front of his own pants, gets them open and frees his swollen dick. He doesn't stop touching Rodney's nipple, though, even as he strokes himself to a powerful, breathless orgasm. It leaves him shaking, weak; for a minute afterwards he can't move, not even just to collapse next to Rodney, which he really, really wants to do.

"Are you okay?" Rodney asks finally.

"Yeah." His voice cracks and he forces his fingers to release his softening dick. "Yeah. You?"

"Other than the fact that I'm pretty sure none of my vertebrae are actually connected anymore?" Rodney laughs like it's finally hitting him this has really happened; John knows the feeling. "Come here." 

Shifting over, Rodney pats the mattress beside him, and somehow John manages to make himself move, and oh yeah, Rodney's mattress is good, it's _great_. He's never going to get off of it. "Bed," he says, realizing he's been reduced to single syllables.

"Yes," Rodney says, sounding amused. "This is the bed. And here's a pillow." It's shoved unceremoniously up against John's face; he lifts his head enough to wedge it underneath. "God, I'm disgusting," Rodney mutters.

"What? No, you're not." John half sits up, ready to glare at Rodney, then discovers Rodney has a handful of tissues and is swiping, fairly ineffectually, at their combined mess on his stomach. "Oh. Well, yeah, you kind of are."

Rodney sighs and folds the wad of tissue before wiping at his chest. "Yes, thank you, I feel so much better now."

"It's just come," John says, which is easy to say since he's not the one with it all over him. He reaches out and touches one of Rodney's nipples; as his fingertip brushes the piercing, his cock twitches a little. Ha, he thinks, but even he's not _that_ hopeful -- there's no way he's getting it up again in the next couple of hours. 

"I have an idea," Rodney says. "What if, instead of indulging in your apparent fetish, you go get me a washcloth?"

"It's not a fetish," John tells him, but drags himself out of bed and to the bathroom.

"Oh, really?" Rodney grins smugly as John comes back with the requested cloth. "I may not think much of psychology, but I'm pretty sure having a thing for pierced nipples is a fetish."

"Maybe it's not a thing for pierced nipples." John sits on the side of the bed and wipes Rodney's belly clean. The water from the washcloth darkens the hair there, taking it from a red-tinged brown to dark mahogany.

Rodney snorts. "So it's a general liking for piercings? Or maybe nipples."

"Or maybe it's just _your_ nipples," John says. His hand stills, and Rodney looks at him, right at him, right into his eyes, and John feels everything in his chest go warm and heavy. Slowly, he finishes cleaning Rodney up, then tosses the cloth toward the bathroom and lies down. "C'n I stay for a while?" He's tired now, relaxed, and just wants to close his eyes for half an hour or so.

"Sure. As long as you don't snore."

"I'm not going to fall asleep," John mutters, and instantly does.

When he wakes up, he's pressed against Rodney's broad back, one arm tucked around Rodney's waist. Rodney's hair smells like shampoo, and John's dick is hard where it's riding the cleft of Rodney's obviously naked ass. John slides his hand down along Rodney's hip and thigh, verifying that Rodney must have ditched his pants before they fell asleep.

He can tell he's been erect for a while, because his cock head is slick and his balls ache. He palms the base of Rodney's cock, which is hard, too, and flexes his hips. Rodney mumbles something unintelligible and pushes his ass back against John, then, clearly, says, "More."

"Yeah?" John bites the nape of Rodney's neck. "How much more?"

"All of it," Rodney says. "All of you. Fuck me."

John groans. "Not like this. I don't -- I don't have anything."

"I have lube," Rodney says. "If that's what you're talking about. Oh yeah, right there, just a little -- _God_ \--"

"Where?" John asks, desperate for it. He's not even thinking about his own dick right then; he's thinking about what Rodney's going to feel like inside, hot and tight, and the sounds he's going to make, and the way he's going to _move_. 

"Behind you," Rodney says. "Drawer." He shoves his cock forward into John's fist, working the ridged head against John's knuckles, and John groans again. "Well, come on," Rodney tells him, impatient. "Get it."

"With what?" John asks, licking the edge of Rodney's ear. "My hand's kinda busy right now."

"You have -- another one," Rodney gasps.

Somehow, together, they manage to squirm around, Rodney rolling onto his back and John letting go just long enough to find the lube. "Got it!"

"Thank God." Rodney's stroking his own cock.

John knocks his hand away. "Stop that."

Rolling his eyes, Rodney does. "That's right, I forgot. You always want to play with the cool toys."

"And you," John tells him, taking Rodney's cock in his lube-slick hand and smiling as Rodney's expression goes from smug to pleasure-glazed, "always have the coolest toys."

"Tell me something I don't know," Rodney says. Spreading his thighs invitingly, he picks up the lube, squeezes some out, and sliiiiiides two fingers into his hole.

"Oh fuck," John says softly, spellbound, mouth gone dry again. This is really happening. _Is_ this really happening? 

His disbelief must show on his face because Rodney says, "Yeah. Come on, hurry up. We haven't got all night."

John gives a short, startled bark of laughter; trust Rodney to skew this with sharp impatience. "I'm not a tease," he says obediently but late, and gives up on the idea of anything but getting inside Rodney, of fitting his cock into Rodney's lush, round ass.

When he does, there's a moment, probably not as long as it feels, when everything else goes away. The world narrows to the place where their bodies join, to the glint of the ring through Rodney's left nipple, and John forgets to breathe, forgets to move. He's nothing but his dick, and his dick is happier than it's ever been in his life. He doesn't _want_ the moment to end.

"Jesus, would you fuck me already?" Rodney says, shifting underneath him, and the moment breaks, shattering like glass.

John _moves_. He gets his weight down low, braced on one forearm, and fucks into Rodney. He fucks hard, but not fast, pausing between each thrust to help reign it in so he doesn't come in the forty seconds he might otherwise. God, it's been a long time, and Rodney feels better than anyone, ever. Rodney's cock is trapped between them, and with every stroke Rodney grunts. 

"God, you're so --" John tries, but he can't find the right word for what Rodney is. There might not be one. As he rocks forward again, his gaze catches on Rodney's nipple and he instinctively reaches for it, pinching nipple and ring between two fingers. Rodney moans softly; John's not sure what kind of moan it is. "Is that -- does it hurt?"

Rodney shakes his head and moans again. "No. No, it's good. It's --" His sounds change, the pitch going a little higher, and John knows he's going to come. "John. John, I'm --"

"I know," John tells him. "Come on." He jerks his hips forward twice more and Rodney comes, bucking under him so strongly that John has to let go of Rodney's nipple and grab onto his hip instead. He rides it out, feeling like he's _being_ fucked as much as he's fucking, and when Rodney shudders with one last powerful clench of his body, John comes, too.

After, they spend a long time just lying there, neither of them saying anything. John plays with one of Rodney's nipple rings almost idly, and Rodney lets him with a bemused look on his face.

"So, not a fetish?" Rodney says finally.

John bites Rodney's shoulder, too gently for it to hurt. "I'm an _aficianado_."

"Oh, is that what you are." Rodney runs his finger through John's hair. It feels nice. "If I'd known this was what it would take to get you into bed, I'd have gotten them a long time ago?"

Pleased, John says, "Yeah? You would have?"

"Actually, no. To be honest," Rodney says, "before today I was counting the hours until I could take the damned things out."

John takes a ring between two fingers and gives it a gentle tug, watching Rodney's face for his reaction. He likes the way Rodney's eyes widen, the way his nostrils flare. "And now?"

"Well. Now..." Rodney rolls toward John and cups his jaw, thumbs his lower lip roughly. Then kisses him, long and slow and so sweet that John knows there's no hope of resisting, not today and not tomorrow. Not ever. "Now that we've learned the true extent of your fetish, I think maybe I'll keep them."

"It's not a fetish," John protests.

"No? Let's look up the dictionary definition, shall we?" Rodney starts to sit up and John, laughing, pushes him back down. 

"Does it really matter what it is? I like them, okay? I like _you_." 

"I suppose it's about time you demonstrated a modicum of taste in _something_ ," Rodney grumbles, leaning in for another kiss, then laying his head on John's shoulder and getting comfortable. "Hm, this is good. Are you staying the night?"

John figures the night's already half over, but nods and brushes his lips against Rodney's hair. "Yeah," he says, then, barely whispered, "Just try to get rid of me."


End file.
